Turning Fifty
Fifty is a milestone, it is half a century. A long time on earth. I have lived in South Africa through two historical eras. The first era was the Apartheid era which was in existence when I was born in 1971. The second era started in 1994, which is the Demcratic South Africa we live in today. The National party was the political party that ruled South Africa during Apartheid. It was an only white party. Political parties like the African National Congress, black parties, were illegal. Black people were not allowed to vote.
In 1976 I was five years old and I was at a creche where I lived. Being black I lived in a township, only black people lived in townships. At the time I didn't know I was black. I was happy living with my family in our house. I didn't know it was a matchbox. At creche we had black teachers and all the kids were black, I was happy. We refered to ourselves as people, not black people. There were differences, some kids spoke Sotho, others Zulu, Pedi, Tsonga and many other languages but we were all people.
One day in 1976 my sister picked me up early from creche. I could tell it was early because we hadn't had our midday nap. We were running home. People were everywhere running helter skelter. Buildings and trucks were burning. Suddenly I felt a burning sensation in my nose. At that moment there were shouts from every angle, "teargas! teargas!" People came running with buckets of water and lined them out in the street. I washed my face but the sting became worse. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. What is going on?
We heard people saying "Abantwana beskole bayayinyova". This was to be the beginning of a series of protests I would witness growing up in Soweto. There were consumer boycotts, which meant people would not buy goods in town, which meant not buying from white business. Comrades would wait for people at bus stops, train stations, taxi ranks and confiscate any items bought in town. They would destroy people's groceries. At the time perming hair was in fashion, so people had greasy curly hair. When they find oil or margarine in your groceries they would smear it on your heard and say they are perming your hair. When a consumer boycott was declared people knew better than to ignore it.
There were marches to government institutions almost every week. People were dissapearing, young people. People would speak in hush tones that so and so has skipped the country. There was necklacing of people. People who were deemed sellouts were burnt by putting a burning tyre around their neck till they died. I have never witnessed one of these but people would tell stories about people they knew who were necklaced. There were marches to recruit people to join the movement, I was scared I didn't.
Growing up in Soweto you eventually understood that you are a black person and as a result you are in a war. You have to fight for your liberation. I understood that the colour of my skin has determined who I was at the time and who I was going to be in the future. Slogans became important, such as, "Liberation first, education later. An injury to one is an injury to all." Many songs, such as, release Mandela, Oliver Tambo khuluma noBotha, ubumnyama isono sethu, many songs spoke and described the apartheid system in South Africa. It was clear to see who is the enemy and why.
I had no direct encounter with white people until my teens. My mother or my grandmother would take me to town, that's where I would see white people's big houses through a bus window. In town I would see them eating in resturants, buying and buying. Doing "white people things". They seemed to have a perfect life, an exclusively white life, a life that was unattainable if you were not white.
Tell me what was your experience growing up in South Africa in the 70's 80's i will continue in my next blog.